


Obsidian

by Bearfeat



Series: Spectrum [24]
Category: Ghost (Swedish Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Smut, and so are others, still trying my best to make you all cry, ya gurl Chicago is back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-03-07 19:31:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13441764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearfeat/pseuds/Bearfeat
Summary: A year after Chicago got a last visit from Papa and Omega, she seeks for much-needed closure. Suddenly, and unexpectantly, she is running out of time when she finds Papa looking for closure too. But are things truly over between them? Does she have to close the chapter, or burn the book?





	1. Farewell

_My dear Omega,_

_I thought our story had ended once I watched the tour busses take off and drive off into the horizon. I had imagined that this was where our lament concluded: in a parking lot. Right before I took the first steps of my new adventure. That would have been fine. It would have been great, even. Heartbreaking, but beautiful. We had shared last kisses, last touches, and last lingering eye contact. As I walked away from you, more languid than you drove away from me, making my every step into a mantra, or a small prayer of hope I now held for the thrill of the road stretched out ahead, I was already turning our goodbye into poetry._

_And then there you were again. I had always imagined seeing you again would be joyful and it would make sense, but it wasn’t joyful and it did not make sense. I couldn’t tell you how much I had missed you, I couldn’t hold you the way I had planned: long, and until my heart was full again. There was nothing sweet or beautiful about our goodbye this time. As I watched the taxi with you in it drive off into the horizon, knowing in your head you were already home with the one you love most, the goodbye formed a bitter and confusing prose in mine._

_I have tried to write you this letter many times._

_One year ago, after we last met, you told me your door was always open for me. I am writing you now to let you know I will not take you up on your offer. Even though I will always carry you with me. Even though I will always love you, the Chicago you loved that long ago is not who I am anymore. And maybe the Omega I loved is not who you are now. And that is heartbreaking, and bittersweet, but I hope you understand what I mean when I say that I also find that beautiful._

_I have to let go of you, or else a part of me will always be with you in that hotel room in Chicago._

_My dear Omega, I love you and I miss you. And I wish you farewell._

_Your Chicago._

…

 

I looked at that name, the cursor blinking behind it on my screen. I read all the words again, asking myself if I meant every single one. A year since we last met. A year.

 

‘That sounds a little sad.’

I grabbed my chest at the small heart attack I got from a voice coming from just above my left ear. It went black before my eyes, just a moment, and then I could breathe again. That wasn’t just _a_ voice. A gloved hand calmly placed a steaming mug of tea in front of me.

‘Papa!’ I gasped, before turning and spinning out of my chair. I hadn’t felt him come in, like the last time. A year ago. An entire year. Memories filled my head, and my heart jumped again, this time with the memory of joy, love, warmth, passion, and I felt how my entire body went hot as a blush crept up my neck.

‘Papa!’ I yelled at the man, as I took him in, his mismatched eyes filled with familiar mischief, his body adorned with his full papal attire, from his miter to the golden nails on his gloves. I suddenly felt how much I had missed him, how long I hadn’t seen him. I threw my arms around him and pressed him close to me, attempting to embrace him completely. His chin on my shoulder, my nose against his mask. I couldn’t believe he was really here. I held him tighter and closed my eyes. I could feel his hands press against my back too.

 

Then the memory of the last time I had seen him flashed before my eyes. It startled me, because I had forgotten why I felt this slight anger well up every time I remembered him. I loosened my grip, the vision of him dumping Omega in my motel room and leaving, eyes shooting around the room like a maniac. How he had distorted our goodbye, killing the poetry. I remembered how I ought to be disappointed with him, and maybe furious.

 

He held up a hand, seeing I was about to let him have it.

‘Now listen here, ghuleh…’ he started. He dared to use that pet name he used to have for me. My face cooled. Even though I knew my anger now, I felt calm.

 

I looked at the mug of steaming tea on my table, and remembered when I had come home from work one night to find him lounging on my couch, legs stretched over the armrest, reading Eat, Pray, Love.

I wondered if I should forgive him.

‘I must apologize for our last encounter.’ He said. ‘I can’t possibly explain to you what was going on, but I hurt you in the process, and I am deeply sorry.’

I looked at him. He looked remorseful, beautiful. I could feel the long year between us like an ocean.

 

‘It has been too long.’ I said. ‘Too much time has passed.’ He just showed up one day and kept showing up whenever he wanted. I had tried to leave him behind on my terms. But he would never allow someone else to have control, ever, and he was here demonstrating that to me once more.

 

‘Why are you here now?’ I said. More tender than I had maybe expected, Papa took my hand and placed it over his heart. Another memory flashed before me and I swallowed a feeling away. He sighed deeply.

‘I understand why you are writing that letter.’ He said. ‘I understand more than you know.’ I felt him squeeze my hand. ‘I am here to say I am sorry, and thank you.’ He gave me a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘And to tell you goodbye. For good, this time. Forever.’


	2. Dear Papa

Papa Emeritus the Third looked at his hand, placed over mine, then he looked up at me. I could see his eyes move from my right to my left eye, as if they were searching for the one to which to confess.

 

‘As you may know’ he started. ‘My last show was in September. There will not be a new one. Not for me.’

I pulled my hand free from his grip, away from his tortured heartbeat. There was a time where I had been dreading this moment, but I was unsure if the grief I felt now was for him. Maybe it was for the time we missed out on.

´Don’t say it.’ I told him.

‘Chi-’

‘And don’t call me Chicago!’ I said loudly. I turned my back to him, thinking about the news he was about to bring me.

‘I read about there being a Papa Zero, you being torn from the stage.’ I could feel his grin in my back.

‘That was my idea.’ He said. ‘I thought it would be dramatic enough.’ He laughed again. I held my breath, because I couldn’t believe how badly he was responding to me.

‘Where will you go?’ I turned. His smile dropped for a second when he heard the sharpness in my voice.

‘You’re here to say goodbye for good.’ I said. ‘So you won’t be able to use this man…’ I gestured to his green eye, his form,  ‘…as your host?’ _What are you?_ I wanted to ask. _What are you exactly? What is a demon really? What is this possession?_

 

It hurt to watch him, because had it not been for this long year, I would have held him close to me. We would have held this conversation sitting down, feeling like we had time, feeling like there was never enough time.

Papa cleared his throat, his smile wavering once more. ‘New era, new Papa.’ He said. ‘There is no place for me in the congregation anymore. Not on this earth, at least.’

‘Don’t say it.’ I said softly. I didn’t want to think about Emeritus the Fourth, who would have his voice, his one green eye. I would not have him. I would not know him, like I hadn’t known Emeritus the Second. This era and this life would leave me for good. I once was ready, when it was still around, but now it was pulling away from me, I didn’t know if I felt it was truly right in leaving me behind.

 

‘Give me a second…’ I said, ‘to comprehend you being here…’ I took a deep breath, ‘… to say goodbye to me after not contacting me for a year.’ _A year_.

His smile was really gone now.

‘You- you are…’ He knew what he wanted to say, but suddenly his rehearsed words seemed foolish. Suddenly he seemed to see me. ‘You are my Chicago.’ He said, softly. ‘I couldn’t leave without seeing you again.’

I looked at my feet. ‘Well, I won’t keep you. There must be many more visits ahead for you.’ I felt tears prick behind my eyes, a fiery pit in my throat. I was furious, and I saw, I fucking _saw_ , that he still did not understand why.

 

‘No… Chicago… I’m here for _you_.’ He stammered. ‘I don’t want to see anyone else but you… you are my last stop-’

‘Oh, so you’ve had your many visits-’

‘Because of who we are!’ Papa raised his voice a little. ‘Because who you are to me!’

We stared each other down in silence, and I remembered the last time he uttered those exact words. The name of the ghoul who had been on my lips all night and to whom these words were spoken then left me in a helpless whisper.

 

‘Omega…’

A new deafening silence again, and as if Papa had expected me to start about him now, he answered, bluntly: ‘Omega is not in the band anymore.’

‘What?’ I breathed. I had heard the rumors of ghouls being replaced and band members quitting, but I had always brushed it off as useless gossip. I looked at Papa, feeling my face cool.

‘What did you do?’ I whispered harshly. Papa parted his lips, moved his hands in protest, but I quickly stepped to him, and I gave him a sharp push in anger, now finally released.

‘What did you do?!’ I shouted. It was as if I saw myself attack him, as if that wasn’t really me, but I was furious. _This man is poison_ , I thought. These _men_ were fucking idiots. I felt the loss of Omega now more than ever, the loss of the love I cherished for him. I could have had a chance with him. I realized that somewhere I had always thought that if I had asked him to stay with me, that night in Chicago, and not pushed him to reconcile with _him_ , he could have been mine. It was a selfish thought, and I knew he would have never put Papa and the Guy out of his mind, but it felt true. It felt completely true. Papa had poisoned a love that _I_ deserved, and he didn’t stop once I had left them to be together. It didn’t stop when he lost his mind and dumped Omega with me that night one year ago. And he had ruined it now, long after I had become nothing more than an afterthought to them, long after these feelings I had were faded. He had wasted my love. It felt unfair, blaming this on him, but it felt fair, blaming this on him.

 

He approached me, but I pushed back again. I grabbed his chasuble in the front, and in my anger I dove my nails into the vestment and tore it. An edge of the grucifix emblem came loose. We both stared at it in shock. I heard nothing but the blood racing through my ears, the anger still burning in my heart, but my body froze, my fist still clamping the emblem.

‘Ghuleh…’ he groaned, and I hated how weak he sounded.

‘Did you even listen to me, the last time we met?’ I hissed. ‘Did my supposed last words mean anything to you?’

‘Ghuleh…’ he groaned again. I eyed the emblem, clenching my fist tighter. A thread broke in the seam. Papa grabbed my wrist with both hands. I probably should have felt bad for wanting to tear it off. Maybe it was good that I couldn’t do that, stuck in his grip.

‘Do you even know,’ I whispered viciously, ‘who I am now?’

Papa parted his lips, mouthing empty words, misunderstanding my anger. I used to think he could read me like the open book I was, but I now knew how blinded I had been. How selfish he had been.

‘I am so sorry-’ he started, and I cringed again at the weakness in his voice. I pushed him once more, hearing the fabric rip. I felt victorious thinking the grucifix had come clean off, but it was still hanging on to the chasuble when I let go of him.

 

‘It must be great being a charming demon, thinking a bullshit apology will get you through life.’ I spat at him. ‘You fuck up and you weep. You suckle on Lucifer’s tit and you’re on your way. You break hearts screaming at the devil, because you’re beautiful!’

His face was so calm when he looked at me rage.

‘You keep coming back!’ I started screaming again. ‘You keep coming back and you ruin me! I know who I am when you’re not here!’ I eyed the mug of tea, thinking of throwing it at him. ‘Why are you back? Why don’t you see what you do to me? To us?’ I thought of Omega, imagined his pain. What an idiot ghoul. We were both idiots for ever loving  Papa so, for getting weak in the knees at the thought of him.

 

‘Chicago-’ he started, and I kicked a chair.

‘DO NOT FUCKING CALL ME THAT!’

‘CHICAGO SHUT THE HELL UP! SHUT UP!’ he clutched the torn emblem to his chest. I did see ager now, and he heaved a little, fire in his white eye. His voice wasn’t as loud when he saw I was listening, though he sounded riled up.

‘First, Omega is fine, but thank you for assuming I scrrrrewed him over!’ His voice was low and his accent got heavier. He stepped closer to me, grabbing my arm. I gasped, tried to pull away, but the intensity of his gaze made me feel small all of a sudden, as if we were back to who we were again when we first met.

‘And yes, maybe it is selfish of me to show myself once more.’ He squeezed my arm. ‘But I couldn’t go without seeing you a last time. Confess…’ his golden nails dug into my arms and it hurt, but I noticed I didn’t mind that pain, ‘you’d hate me more if I had decided to never pay you this visit.’

His face was pulled together in a tight grimace. The lines ran deep, a if he had aged a lot since I had last seen him. The paint seemed to both cover and show that he wore a mask, that he _was_ a mask.

‘I’d hate you more.’ I admitted.


	3. Poetry

_The singer carefully rubbed the soft towel over his head, drying his hair. The warm drops on his shoulder were rapidly cooling after he stepped out of the bathroom into the living room. It was odd, the way this apartment worked, but he liked it. It had been weeks since he last slept in Lincopia. His boxes were unpacked, his side of the bed and closet space claimed. It worked. Most of the time._

_He saw Omega standing by the window, hands in his pocket, cigarette producing a thread of smoke in the ash tray. He was watching the rain._

_The singer felt a shiver as the warmth of the shower was leaving his body for good now. He passed the long wall of records on his way to their bedroom, and found himself some pants. When he returned, Omega was still standing there, and the cigarette had stopped smoking._

_‘Call her.´ The singer said. At first, Omega didn´t seem to have heard him, but then he moved, as if he had been pulled from a deep daydream. He turned to look at the other. Then he looked back into the rain._

_´Too soon.´  He mumbled. ´We should give her more time.’_

_‘It has been months.’ It wasn’t an accusation, but now the singer worried it might have sounded as such, so he pressed his naked chest to Omega’s back and wrapped his arms around him. ‘You don’t want to be too late, dear.’_

_Omega sighed and hung his head. ‘Timing has never been our thing, has it?’ The Guy saw his half-smile reflected in the window._

_‘We need to give her the space she deserves.’ The singer felt his stomach expand under his hands as he breathed in. ‘I can’t be selfish again. Not when it comes to her.’_

_His body was warm. A stain formed on Omega’s shoulder from his damp hair. They listened to the rain tick on the window._

_‘But you miss her.’ He said, eventually. Omega’s ringed fingers landed over his hands. The singer swallowed before he spoke the thought hanging over them: ‘And you weren’t the one who was selfish with her.’_

_It annoyed Omega, he felt it. The ghoul pulled away from his grip, but not angrily. He walked to the kitchen-part of their living room to put on a kettle._

_‘When will the time be right?’ The singer said, a changed tone in his voice. Omega glanced at him, pulling two mugs from a shelf. He did not answer._

_‘I want to buy a house.’ The singer said. ‘I want for us to start the life that we want. The life we deserve.’ He leaned against the refrigerator. ‘You have broken free from Ghost and the Devil, but I know you are stuck…’  he reached out, running his fingers over Omega’s arm._

_‘So give her a call?’_

_But Omega shook his head. ‘Not yet.’ He whispered. They looked at each other, until finally the water boiled._

 

 

 

‘How does it work?’ I looked at Papa, who was still so close to me, still breathing too loudly from screaming. Still clutching the torn emblem to his chest.

‘At one point, I thought you were never going to leave.’ I continued. ‘I thought they’d keep you. I don’t know why.’ I saw him look at me, searching for emotions that had been there moments prior, but that now seemed to fade. My heartbeat stabilized, I could feel my head clear. And only questions remained. This one the first to make its way past my lips. ‘Maybe because I liked you so much.’ I said. ‘Because I wanted you to stay. Maybe because I thought you were responsible for the success of Meliora, and I was naïve enough to think they’d keep you.’

His face was plain and emotionless too, but it changed when I uttered the next thing on my mind.

‘I don’t think that now. Maybe it is your time.’ I said.

His fiery eyes got misty and the frown in his forehead disappeared. The corners of his mouth moved down. He looked old. Tired.

‘Many people would agree with you, darling.’ He said softly. His face was still so close to mine, his fingers digging into my arm. I pulled, but he did not let go of me.

‘I am not freed or fired. I can’t lay down this job and then go home to the ones I love.’ He was cold. Not sad or weak, as I had thought him to be in the first place. He was devoid of feeling, letting go of his warmth for me.

‘When I’m not the Papa anymore, I will be nothing… anymore…’ he was not devoid of feeling, I realized. I just couldn’t read him. I didn’t know when that happened. I didn’t know when I stopped really seeing him.

‘Not here.’ He said. ‘Where I’ll go goes beyond a mortal’s imagination.’ He showed his teeth when he spat the word _mortal_ to me.

‘The Clergy will choose one of my brothers and he will take this voice and these eyes you once _loved_ so much, and you’ll never see me again.’

 

_Another handful of weeks passed and Omega had kept looking at the rain. It was still visible in his eyes when he crawled under the sheets next to the singer, clean from the shower but somehow the scent of smoke still lingering on him. He turned to the singer, because he knew he would want to talk. And lately, talking came easier. He did not try to run from it anymore. He moved his hand to the Guy’s hip to pull him closer. He couldn’t run from it anymore._

_‘In that Devil’s dream she gave us…’ Omega started. Even though there had been a couple of those dreams, the singer knew exactly which one he referred to. It was the dream that had made Chicago decide to leave them. The one that was shared between her, Omega, and Papa Emeritus._

_‘In that dream, she killed the children.’ His eyes were small and pushed into thin, crescent stripes from the sleep. Some fluid reflected the scarce light in their room._

_‘I can’t stop thinking about that dream.’ Omega whispered. ‘She said loving us isn’t good for her. She said there were things she still needed to do. Seeing what could have been… it scared her off…’_

_‘That’s not what I saw.’ The singer whispered. ‘In the dream that was given to me,_ I _killed the children.’_

_‘Were you not given the same dream as us?’ Omega didn’t know they had experienced different iterations of the same dream that morning._

_The singer had to think. ‘I’m not sure. I think Papa dreamt that it was him, but I think it was me.’_

_He caressed Omega’s side and shoulder._

_‘What I’m trying to say is: I have never ruled out the future presented to us. That future. Those kids…’_

_Omega’s eyes seemed to widen a little before he pressed his warm lips to the singer’s forehead._

_‘Maybe she hasn’t either. Call her.’ The singer whispered once more. Then he grinned. ‘We’re not getting any younger.’_

 

The pupil in Papa’s green eye seemed larger than the one in his white and I thought of the man beneath the mask. I wondered if he could feel what Papa felt right now, and I wondered if he was judging me. I swallowed when a hint of his breath caressed the skin on my cheek and I asked myself if I had meant every single word I had said to him.

‘Just like that?’ I whispered. ‘They let you go, just like that?’

He nodded, releasing my arm. He bowed to me, never breaking eye contact.

‘Just like that. Goodbye, Chicago.’

 

‘Wait!’ I grabbed at his robes again, but this time because I remembered how fast he could disappear. He fended off my hands, but my plan was not to tear at his clothes again. I tried to touch his face, trace the deep lines in his mask with my fingers, but he got hold of my wrists. He caught them mid-air, and we looked at each other, hearing the seconds tick away on my clock.

‘I won’t let you go just like that.’ I heard myself say. I heard myself playing with the thought of forgiveness. Papa took a step back when I tried to touch his face again, and devils, it only made me want to touch him more.

‘Papa.’ I demanded. ‘Let me decide on your goodbye. Let me define it. Don’t leave me until I let you.’

I reached for him again, and this time he allowed my touch. When I closed my hands around his face and we locked eyes, we saw each other again.

 

‘You loathe me, yet you want me.’ Papa grumbled. His voice was low and dangerous, but I saw a familiar softness in his eyes.

‘Yes.’ I said. I leaned closer, but stopped. I wanted to see what he would do, but he just looked at me. When I kissed him carefully, his hands lowered to my elbows and I could feel the nails on his gloves on my arms. I pulled him closer and he wrapped his arms tightly around me, our kiss deepened and my heartbeat rose so fast it felt like suddenly we were in the middle of a storm. My body filled with intense warmth all of a sudden, and he was warm under my hands too. He worked a hand into my hair and pulled, I tasted him and smelled the theatrical smoke. I didn’t know if it was real or a memory, but I had no time to think about it: Papa’s glove had made it’s way underneath my shirt. He ran the nails down my back, painfully so, and I bit his lower lip. We both held out, eyes closed, enjoying giving and receiving that pain, before his tongue lashing out at me, the kiss back and immediately deep and intense. Taking me by surprise, Emeritus moved his arms under by butt and picked me up. I yelped, kicking my legs because I was taken aback, but then he dropped to his knees and lay me flat on my back, spreading me out on my carpet. He pressed his crotch between my spread legs and sat up.

‘Chicago…’ his nails were in my neck now. I looked at him through lidded eyes, I could feel how he was half erect under his robes, I could feel my own beating heart pulse against his nails on my carotid. He looked down on me, raising his lip like he had done when he called me a ‘mortal’ before. Then he took a quick breath, moved both hands to the neck of my shirt, and tore it open, all the way down to my waist.

‘That is for my grucifix.’ He growled, placing a hand over my breast.

‘Fuck me.’ I replied. I clawed at his hair, the miter falling to the floor as I pulled him down on me. He thrusted his hips, his crotch hot and hard against mine, and he hotly licked my lips. Our tongues met again, and I pulled at his chasuble, my hands searching for his skin.

 

He unhooked my bra and pulled it down, his warm mouth suddenly on my sensitive breasts. I moaned, loud, needy, arching my back.

‘Papa!’ I cried, my hand in his neck to make sure he wouldn’t move away. And then, the atmosphere in the room changed. I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, but it seemed like we both became a little more aware of each other, aware of more than just the raw passion burning between us. His kisses and bites followed at an easier pace, he sucked softly on my nipple before giving slow kisses and bites again. Then he allowed me to catch my breath.

I held his gaze as we undressed ourselves in silence.

 

He slowly let his eyes glide over my naked form. I leaned back, placing my hands behind me on the carpet, lifting my knee to his hip. I could not tell if he liked me again. He ran his bare hands up my thighs, my sides. He placed them behind me too, pressing his body into me. His hard cock slid over my soaking cunt when he slowly trusted his hips back and forth. He turned his head, and I saw a half smile now, a familiar sparkle in his eyes. He looked at me as if he wanted to say something, but then he forcefully pushed inside and I cried out the pleasure of finally having him in me again. He assisted me in a controlled falling-back to the floor, and kept thrusting, slow and deep.

‘Fuck you!’ He moaned in my ear. He slid out of me, and back in, deeper, harder. He pulled my hair and I bit his shoulder. My fingers searched for all the familiar places of his body I had remembered and forgotten.

 

He took me harder, faster, and I could feel my toes curl because of how he moved inside me. He hovered over me, moving his fingers from my hair to my collar bone. I knew he contemplating grabbing my throat, but he moved further down, over my breast, my stomach. He pressed his thumb to my clit and started rubbing me on the rhythm of his thrusts. An unfamiliar heat grew in my throat, making it hard for me to swallow. It was too much. Everything was too much.

 

‘Slow down.’ I managed to utter. Papa took his hand away, and I sighed, but the burning in my throat did not subside. It was a sharp tightening, only made bearable by the fire in my loins. I must have looked a certain way, because he stopped moving completely, struggling to catch his breath. I pushed his shoulder, and he rolled off of me, sitting against my couch. I had trouble breathing too, my blood still racing down to that one demanding spot in my body. I moved a hand to the back of his neck and used him to steady myself as I straddled him. I made him look at me as I lowered myself onto his dick.

 

The pain in my throat grew as I moved and watched his eyes grow wider and slimmer, almost seeing every emotion behind them. I rolled my hips, and pressed a finger into his mouth when it made him gasp.

‘Ghuleh…’ he whispered with that thick accent of his. He pushed back into me, our skin slapping together as we fucked each other.

‘Oh…’ he moaned. His breathing quickened, and I could feel him getting closer. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, and I closed mine around his shoulders, listening to him, feeling my own body tense, welcoming the familiar pulsing inside me. Our bodies grew more selfish as we both got closer to our climax, and before I pressed my face into his neck I saw bright colors burst in slow-motion. Then it went pitch-black before my eyes and there was a short second of utter silence before he cried out my name, and we came together. Our bodies wet and warm, our minds one.

 

He did not let go of me after he caught his breath. Slowly, the pain in my throat won from the subsiding horny need in my body and I started sobbing softly into his hair. It was as if Papa had expected it. He held me tighter, rocking me softly from side to side.


	4. Devotion

The tea he had made for me wasn’t steaming anymore. It had gone cold, I hadn’t touched it. I stared at the blinking cursor on my computer screen, as I took a drag from a cigarette. I had hidden a pack somewhere. Just in case.

 

‘Do you mean every word in this letter?’ Papa stood behind me and rubbed my naked shoulders. I closed my eyes.

‘Do you really want to say goodbye to him forever?’

‘I am so tired of goodbyes.’ I felt a tear well up in my eye. It became heavy, broke, and rolled down my cheek. ‘I want to never feel like this again. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t…’ I swallowed, and tapped the cigarette, so the ash would fall off the end and onto the saucer. ‘I can’t hold out hope, Papa.’

I took another long drag.

 

When Papa spoke again, his voice was hoarse. It was soft, almost like a whisper. ‘You want to forget him… do you want to forget me?’ His thumbs caressed my neck. I leaned into his hand.

‘I want to stop thinking that I deserve him, that I deserve you.’ I said softly. ‘I need to stop waiting to start my life.’

‘This letter will do that?’ Papa asked me. I felt him press a kiss to my crown. I stared at the blinking cursor on the screen.

‘Do you mean every word in it?’ He said again. Another tear rolled down my face. I hadn’t been able to stop them from coming since it started, and now I just let it happen. I could try to ignore them.

 

‘Because I need to give you something, but it can’t give it to you if you do.’ He stepped away from me, and sat down next to me, his naked legs casually crossed. He took my cigarette, and inhaled.

‘Give me what?’ I wiped my cheek.

He looked at me. Smoke left his nostrils in thin, veil-like strands as he breathed out.

‘Let’s say it is an invitation way past due.’

He didn’t get up or reach for something. He sat there, still, watching me. Cigarette between his fingers. Legs crossed.

‘An invitation?’ I said. ‘A letter?’

‘No.’ Papa replied. ‘And you can’t have it unless you admit that this email you wrote is bogus.’

‘An invitation from Omega?’ I whispered.

‘Confess.’ Papa simply said. I looked from him to the letter I wrote, feeing my heart beat in my throat.

‘If Omega wants me…’ I said softly, ‘to “visit”…’ I took a deep breath and lit a new cigarette. Taking it from between my lips, I tried that thought again.

‘I am not going to visit.’ I said. I had regained my voice. ‘If he wants to see me, he must know that I will never say goodbye to him again. If he wants me to go to another country, to stay in his house, to revisit everything we felt when we were-’ I took another drag and let the end of that sentence fade, knowing I had made my point.

‘I’m never leaving him again.’ I said. And surely, a smile broke over Papa’s face.

 

 

_Omega leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets, absent smile on his face. He didn’t know what had pulled him here, what made him linger and smile this way. He was savoring what he saw, but he didn’t realize it. There was no need._

_Papa Emeritus the Third took his time arranging his full papal attire, putting it on with care. He brushed his hands over the chasuble, ridding it of wrinkles. Lips slightly parted, he touched the grucifix emblem with his naked fingertips. He whispered a small prayer Omega had never heard him do. Then he applied black face paint around his eyes, washed his hands. He put on the black gloves with the olden nails and lowered his miter on his black hair. Their eye contact through the mirror followed, and it gave them both a small scare. They gasped in unison. It had been a while since Omega last visited the castle._

_‘My love.’ Papa said, out of habit. Then he realized what he had said, and he clasped his hands together looking at his feet. ‘I mean…’_

_‘Hi, Papa.’ Omega didn’t want him to correct himself. ‘Big night?’_

_Papa looked up, still clearly suffering from the sight of his former ghoul, and he opened and closed his mouth, as if he didn’t know how to respond. Omega pointed in his direction._

_‘Who are you making yourself pretty for?’_

_Some tension left the pope as he realized what the other meant._

_‘I am making some last visits.’ He sighed. He touched the grucifix again. ‘Thought I’d make an entrance.’_

_That same smile returned to Omega’s face. Papa would never pass on an opportunity to be dramatic._

_‘Hazel?’ He wondered out loud, but he wished he could swallowed those words when Papa looked at him with that pained expression again._

_‘No.’ Papa cleared his throat. ‘No, that already happened. Air thought it would be better if I didn’t wait to long with… saying goodbye to her…’ he ran his hand over the back of a chair. ‘He is marrying her mother in the summer, did you know that?’_

_Omega nodded. ‘Yes, Alpha told me. I’m happy for him.’_

_Papa’s eyes shot to him. ‘You talked to Alpha?’ he whispered. Then, he shook his head and let his eyes wander, quickly following up with another thought: ‘I’m so glad Hazel is loved. Completely.’ His golden nails ticked on the wood._

_‘So what brings you here?’_

_Omega entered his chambers. ‘I was driving home.’ He said. ‘I wasn’t paying attention. Then, before I knew it, I had parked my car on the driveway of Lincopia. It was the only one. The castle looked so empty, Papa, and I thought of you, here, alone._

_Papa looked at his feet. ‘I am doing well, Omega.’ He said. He watched the slow, heavy steps Omega took to close in on him, and only looked at him again as the former ghoul wrapped his strong arms around him. Papa closed his eyes and reciprocated, letting Omega’s warmth fill him._

_‘So, Chicago?’ Omega finally said when he broke the embrace. Papa nodded._

_‘Yes.’_

_Omega nodded too._

_‘How is she?’ Papa asked him, but his eyes grew when a look of guilt suddenly appeared on his face._

_‘You haven’t contacted her?’ Papa said, surprised. ‘Ever?’_

_‘I am waiting for the right time to-’_

_‘The right time?’ Papa raised his voice. ‘The right time?’ he sputtered, lifting his arms, pointing out him wearing his vestments to Omega. ‘The time will_ never _be right! My love!’ This time he didn’t say it out of habit. Eyes earnest, he took Omega’s face into his hands. ‘Stop wasting it. Stop wasting time we don’t have. Look at me.’_

_Papa saw his own reflection in Omega’s breathtaking eyes. ‘What exactly are you waiting for?’ he whisered._

_It took a couple of seconds before Omega answered. Papa could feel him breathe in, breathe out._

_‘This, I think.’ He said softly. ‘What do I do?’_

 

The plane ticket on my table stared me down as much as I was staring it down. Stockholm, one way. Next week. No letter. A free trip, luggage included. In the background, I heard the sounds of fabric against fabric, as Papa dressed himself. He stood behind me, delaying his departure.

 

‘How many times will we have to say our final goodbyes?’ I said, not taking my eyes off of the ticket, as if it could disappear in the same fashion as the man who gave it to me.

‘For us, this is it.’ Papa said. His voice was breaking, going soft like before. He stood so close I could feel his warmth on my still naked back. ‘For you and him, it doesn’t have to be.’ When I finally turned to him, his eyes were wet. He smiled bitterly. I picked up the invitation, and as I slowly nodded, letting out a shuddering breath, his bitter smile turned bright, and the light reached his mismatched eyes. It would be the last I ever saw of him.


	5. Dear Omega

Omega watched Papa’s pale, naked body beside him on his bed. His chest rose and fell and in the light of the afternoon sun the white on his mask lit up. His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t asleep.

‘Not yet’ he said, when Omega raised his hand to touch him.

 

The ghoul -former ghoul- had been waiting for Papa’s return that night, and even though they both expected it, the surprise of their reunion still lingered in the air. It felt like a script had already been written for them, in which they would never part for good, and they both had known this from the start. They would never not be lovers. Still, there were butterflies, shaking hands, throat aches.

‘She accepts.’ Papa had said, voice almost a whisper. Omega had closed in on him as he had done when they were together, filled with gratitude. In that moment, nothing had changed. The last year of their lives was just an afterthought to what really mattered.

 

Omega rolled to his stomach, resting his head on his arms. Papa moved, and he opened his eyes to meet his gaze.

‘Omega, my love.’ He smiled. The ghoul leaned up on his elbows and pressed his lips against Papa’s in a lingering kiss.

‘No, not yet.’ Papa said when the kiss ended. Omega brushed their lips again, but this time, the pope turned his head away.

‘Why wait?’ Omega whispered. ‘Why now, at the end of all things?’

‘I want to want you even more.’ Papa said, accent heavy. ‘I want to want you so much I burrrrrst.’ He rolled his ‘r’s. A tormented purr.

‘Please…’ Omega pressed his palm to Papa’s chest, over his heart. ‘It’s mere hours until the last Black Mass…’

Papa allowed it. He smiled, and it was unburdened and secure. ‘Will you attend, then? Ghoul…’ He did it on purpose. The corner of Omega’s mouth twitched, but he suppressed the smile. He was no ghoul. Not even for his Papa.

‘We all will.’ He answered.

Now, Papa’s smile faltered. He stared at a fixed point right above his shoulder. ‘I’ll dedicate it to you.’ He said softly.

 

Papa faced him again and sighed. The daylight shining into the room, barely obscured by the closed curtains. The clock ticking, the birds chirping. The loveliness of the day felt so misplaced.

‘Everything was countless of times more beautiful because I had you. I am going to feel you in my heart eternally. We _will_ meet again.’ He finally said.

The two men listened to the soft ticking of the clock in Omega’s old bedroom, while the one patiently waited for the other to digest these words.

Papa saw the two most wonderful blue eyes slowly and repeatedly fall from his green to his white eye. Red lines appeared. Omega swallowed hard. He couldn’t keep his emotions inside any longer, and he shivered when he breathed in and two silent, salty tears rolled down his face. He rubbed his eyes, but another two followed.

‘Thank you.’ he smiled, and his voice hitched when he said: ‘I love you too.’

 

He stroked Papa’s shoulder with ringed fingers. He looked beautiful in the daylight. More real, somehow. Almost human.

‘I don’t want to be angry, but I am.’ Omega whispered. Papa traced his fingertips over Omega’s naked hip. More touch. Omega breathed in. More.

‘Don’t be angry, my love. Everything is turning out exactly as it is supposed to.’ His fingers traced the lines in Omega’s face now. They were soft, but they did start to show. Omega closed his eyes.

‘Without me, you are truly free.’

‘I-’ Omega started a protest, but stopped himself. He grinned when their eyes met again. ‘I regret nothing.’

 

Emeritus looked at his favorite ghoul, at him holding back tears and radiating more sunshine than was falling through the window. Omega, the toughest guy he knew. The hardest stomper, the rocker, the visionary. He kissed the larger man’s cheek. The intellectual, but never condescending, the brute force, but always lovely to those who were deserving. And sometimes, to those who weren’t. He stroked his short hair.

‘I regret many things.’ Papa said finally. ‘But not falling for you. The Devil may punish me a thousand times over, and I would love you again and again.’

 

-

 

 

 

 

The former ghoul and the singer couldn’t believe I was here. I saw it in their eyes when I dined with them that night, and I felt it in their touch as slowly, the pretense of this being nothing more than friendship crumbled around us. I had never seen Omega speak so freely, so unbound. I had never felt so loved as when he slowly took his hands from his pockets to catch me when he saw me run to him through the arrivals hall at the airport. I had to run. It was not a choice. I _had_ to. The singer had offered to leave the apartment to us for a day, or a couple of them, but I had told Omega he shouldn’t bother. He should be there too. _I am never going to leave_ I had told Papa, for the singer to hear. I know this invitation was his, too.

Omega’s voice had sounded muffled when he grunted my name into my heavy coat. We renamed each other then. We parted from Omega and Chicago. We called each other’s names until they sounded abstract. We shouted them into the night until we were out of breath and our voices were broken. We held hands as he drove us, and I missed his touch as if I was more deprived now every time he let go to shift gear. We parted from lives that now seemed obscure, as if we couldn’t see them properly, because the other wasn’t in it. When my jetlag finally allowed me some sleep, the two men were beacons of warmth and hope on either side of me. They insured me I was welcome. And I kept my promise.

I stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really it. Really. No more Spectrum, I promise you that.  
> In the end, I wrote a happy ever after, after all. I am not sure why. I could have stopped after Gold. I can't say I never regretted writing more for this universe. Thank you for sticking with me! Thank you for loving Chicago.  
> As always: come yell at me&be my friend on tumblr: bearfeat42.tumblr.com
> 
> EDIT: It hasn't even been a year and I've given into Chicago's voice in my head. If you want to read more about her and the boys, I suggest you follow this blog: https://lifeafterchicago.tumblr.com/


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